One-Week Stand
by Hidding-In-Shadows
Summary: A sneak peek at my upcoming Burlesque AU. This is for SoMa NSFW week, so there will be smut in it. Hope you all enjoy it!


Soul had never had a difficulty while doing his job. He would come in, clean off the counters and make sure the glasses were stacked to Kid's likings, and then pour himself a glass of whiskey a half an hour before the doors opened. Serving drinks at the Shibusen Lounge was easy compared to the shit he'd done in the past. Not once had he spilled a drink on himself, broken a glass, or been distracted by the burlesque dancers on stage a few meters away from him. But, his job had suddenly become increasingly difficult to do. Ever since _she_ came.

At first, Maka was his right-hand-woman. She took the orders of the customers, would flash them a smile, giggle at their jokes, and, when called for, kicked the ass of whoever needed it so they would get out of the lounge. She knew all the names of the drinks by her second week, she knew just how to wear her uniform to where Blair loved it and Maka felt comfortable, and she never showed up late. She was the perfect waitress.

Until Kim fucked up and broke her ankle. Now Maka was on stage, dancing, and Soul couldn't keep his eyes off of her. When he caught himself the first time, watching her, he realized that he had poured too much vodka for someone. It had trickled onto his hand and soaked his sleeve. Soul cursed and each time he got a thick inhale of that vodka, he remembered watching Maka move up on stage in her white bra and thong combo, stocking clipped to her garter belt and her blonde locks curled and framing her cute face. He was royally fucked.

Soul decided that if he came earlier in the evening, maybe he'd have a chance to get a little more drunk and the sight of his (best) friend dancing on stage half-naked wouldn't bother him. But practice was before the night show and watching her dance in yoga shorts and a sports bras was somehow worse. He had to excuse himself multiple times during the week because his little friend downstairs wanted to pop up and say hello. The worst part, though, was that the dances only got dirtier and naughtier as the days and weeks passed. Moves where the girls would shake their asses in the air, sit down and spread their legs wide, run their hands down their bodies and back up, pressing their breasts together. Sometimes, Maka would jump down from the stage to grabs some water and Soul would have to hold on the counter, muster up all his strength, and try his best to pull his gaze off of the trail of sweat that would make it's way down to the front of her bra. There was no way he was going to let her catch him staring. He'd have a lump on his head for a whole week.

So it was no surprise that he actually agreed to Black Star's ridiculous plan. Have a tape of the girls dancing so he can watch Maka whenever he wants? Hell yeah. Being able to watch Maka in slow motion, reverse, repeat, and pause the screen when she made those cute little faces, lip sucked in and green eyes narrowed in (fake) lust? Fuck. Yes. Now he was going to be set for the next few months, zooming in on that image of her on his laptop whenever he was in the mood for a little fun.

But, it was getting a little harder to jerk off now that Maka was in the living room, sleeping on his couch every night. Whenever he wanted to scream out her name in that climax of pleasure, he'd have to bite down on his lip to stop himself. If she heard him, she would come rushing in to see if he was hurt or having another ones of his nightmares. Instead, she'd be welcomed to his hand around his dick and his lips carrying her name. Not cool.

Tonight, though, would be the night he could actually have a little fun. Maka said she was staying late out tonight, hanging with the girls. Liz promised to have Maka home well before two in the morning, unlike last time the girls had a night out and Maka came home at four with a bloody nose and a limp. (Damn girl got into a bar fight, and won, to no surprise.) Right now it was eleven and Soul was sitting at his desk, on his laptop, scrolling through an email his mother had sent him. After a tired sigh, he exited out of the window and went to shut his laptop when a little file caught his eyes. He smirked at the shit title he gave it, _Card Game Tricks_. Maka knew not to mess with it because he took his card games with the boy seriously. He hovered over the file, glancing at the time before double clicking and leaning back in his seat.

The video started with muffled noises, a shaky scene of people and the lit up stage. Black Star cursed in the background before setting the camera down on the tripod. The stage went black for a moment and then lit up with the image of the opening number, all the girls dancing together as Blair presented them, name by name. Soul doubled clicked again, fast forwarding. This was all fluff to him, things he didn't need to see. The opening number, Liz and Patti's number, a group number, and finally, what he was looking for. Soul paused the video, inhaling sharply at the sight of Maka standing on stage in her signature white outfit.

Her white bra was thin, the only thing covering her nipples was a thicker section of the material. Lace ran over the hem of the cupping and over the straps on her shoulder. Her panties were the same material, thin but covering the good parts. Long, white stocking were clipped onto her legs and a pair of white heels made her a good six inches taller than she was. Her blonde hair was curled into perfect ringlets, lips painted pink, and green eyes bright and alive. A feather boa was wrapped around her shoulders, tucked into the crook of her elbows. She was stunning.

Soul played the video, watching as Maka moved her hips to the music slowly, shimmying the boa down her shoulders, across her back and turned to show the audience her butt, running the boa over her perky ass before dropping it to the stage. Soul's teeth sunk into his bottom lip, he could already feel pressure in his sleeping shorts. She hadn't even started to dance and he was already popping a boner. Not cool.

The video continued on to Maka bending over, hand running up the back of her calves and thighs, fingers dancing dangerously close to her ass as she slowly bent back up, rubbing her bottom roughly to show it move under her hands and bounce back into place. She turned her back to the crowd, hips swaying deliciously as she lowered herself to the ground, spinning around on her butt and facing the crowd, hands pushing at her knees to give the crowd a quick look at her crotch before she closed them, giving someone in the audience a wink.

Soul rewound the tape, stopping at the point where Maka was spread open. He let out a long groan as his hand found his erection, rubbing slowly over it, the material of his shorts the only barrier between him and his dick. Quickly, Soul shimmied the shorts lower on his hips so his erection was freed from the suddenly tight fabric. He wrapped his hand around his shaft gently, head thrown back as he let out a long moan. Damn this woman! She made him horny and sensitive, like he was some prepubescent boy.

But, shit, did it feel good.

Soul chewed on his bottom lip as he continued to move his hand up and down his shaft, imagining what it would feel like to have Maka's hand on him. She was constantly reading and writing, the only exercise she took part in was running, and that didn't affect her hands. He's held her hand a few times before, and, Christ, they were soft. Soft and small and warm. Fuck.

"Maka . . ." Soul huffed, his hips bucking in his hand. He opened his ruby eyes a little, taking in the stilled frame of her with her legs open, her fingers digging into her knees and her barely covered sex staring him right in the face. He'd give anything to be the one to open her legs and slide into her entrance, to hear all those cute little noises she could make, to watch her come undone below him. Or above him. Or anywhere, as long as it was for _him_.

"Fuck, Maka, shit . . ." Soul's hips moved against his will now, bucking high and hard into his hand. The other hand gripped at the arm of his chair, knuckles white as he tried his best to make sure the rolling chair wouldn't slide out from under him. He could feel the familiar pressure of pleasure building up, getting larger and larger with each thrust. Just a little more and he'd be . . . a little more . . .

"Maka!" He gasped her name, hips high as he came undone. His head was thrown back, mouth open in a little 'o' and his eyes screwed shut.

He didn't see her leaning on his doorframe.

She had returned home a few minutes ago, telling the girls she was tired and didn't really want to stay out much longer. When Liz dropped her off, Maka thought Soul would be in bed, or watching a movie. But then she heard the noises and she _knew_ what he was doing. The door was opened a crack so she pushed it open a little more, eyes wide as she looked her friend (and at the moment, roommate). Then a hitched breath came from her when she saw just what was on his laptop. Then her name spilled from his lips and thats when everything went downhill.

She could feel how wet her panties were under her skirt, and her thighs were pressed tight together to try to relieve that trob that began when he moaned her name again. She had a want to just walked over to him, pull her underwear down, and sit on his lap, ride him until they were both satisfied and spent. But her shyness got in the way, long with her curiosity.

As Soul continued, his bucks got more erotic, jerky and fast as he panted and moaned. Maka had never seen a guy jack off before (maybe once or twice in a porno, but that was Liz's fault), but she could tell he was close. Everyone made desperate attempts to push themselves over the edge when they are close, and right now, Soul was clinging onto his chair, looking at her picture on his laptop.

And that was it.

He was done and spent and panting in his chair and Maka needed him to make her feel the same. She stood up against the door, waiting for him to turn around, and when his did, the look on his face was priceless. His cheeks turned from a light flush to a full out sunburn red, his eyes wide and frightened.

He'd be caught. He'd been caught and now he was going to get hit over the head with the biggest book she had, he knew it. He put his hands up to explain, trying to ignore the sticky evidence on his chest and front of his pants. Maka raised a brow at him, a smirk on her lips as she nodded to the laptop behind him and he let out a whispered, 'fuck', before letting his hands fall in defeat. He stood there, dick halfway hidden under the shorts he had begun to hike up, chest covered in himself, and heart pounding from his orgasm and from his fright, both caused by Maka.

"I'm going to say one thing," she said, putting her hand up as if to excuse herself, that smirk growing on her face. "If you wanted a private show, you could of just asked."

Soul swallowed hard as she pushed off the doorframe, pulled her skirt up a little and then turned around, walking out of the room, ass peeking out from below that tiny black skirt. Soul let out a low growl as he followed her out of his bedroom.

She made him feel like a prepubescent boy. But, shit, did it feel good.


End file.
